


Out, Out Damn Spot

by theorangewitch



Series: Angstober [22]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dark Academia, Gen, Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 17:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16454669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorangewitch/pseuds/theorangewitch
Summary: After Nicky’s body was found, Diana didn’t expect the world to stop turning. Deep down, she’d known he’d been dead since the moment he was found to be missing. They all had. But she expected something to change.





	Out, Out Damn Spot

**Author's Note:**

> Angstober Day 29 - Two Faced Inner Turmoil. I wasn't sure exactly what this meant, but I interpreted it as guilt, I guess? So have a snippet from my dark academia story. Also, I missed three days because I was traveling for my cousin's wedding. I'll do the prompts I missed (Separated by War, Losing a Loved One, and Nightmares) at the end of the month. 
> 
> As usual, the link to the full list of prompts is in the author's note of the first work in this series.

After Nicky’s body was found, Diana didn’t expect the world to stop turning. Deep down, she’d known he’d been dead since the moment he was found to be missing. They all had. But she expected  _ something  _ to change. Professor Del Mar made an announcement in Diana’s Spanish class that morning, of course, directing her classmates to counseling services if they needed to discuss it. But nobody in that class had really known Nicky Blanchard. Nobody except Diana. 

The police had been hanging around the Writer’s House since Nicky’s disappearance was discovered two Saturdays ago.

“It’s no use looking now,” one of the officers had said, staring out the front window of the House at the falling snow. “If he’s out there, he’s already frozen to death. And if we go out there, we’ll freeze to death too. And if he’s dead, well. His body’s already buried under the snow.”

Diana wasn’t supposed to have heard his comments. She was supposed to be shut up with Soledad in their room while the police scoured the House for evidence. Blood. A murder weapon. Some evidence that Nicky had done himself in, or a note directing them to where he might’ve gone. They didn’t find anything. 

On Tuesday, a week and a half after Nicky had disappeared and three days after the snow had melted, they found his body. By mid-morning Wednesday, there was no word on a cause of death. So the rest of the Creative Writing program gathered in the living room of the Writer’s House for their weekly bagel brunch. Diana wasn’t sure if such a brunch was going to happen, but at 10:30 am, Soledad was in the kitchen with paper bags full of bagels and cream cheese. 

“Is Professor Day coming?” Diana asked. 

“Should be,” Soledad answered. “I asked her yesterday if she would. You know, after we got the news about Nicky.” 

“And she said yeah?”

“Best to maintain a facade of normalcy, I think,” Soledad said, not looking up from the bagel she was sawing in half. 

The rest of the Creative Writing students were at the brunch along with Professor Day. Nobody really spoke, though. Fray lounged on the window seat with her head against the wall, staring out at the gray November sky. Felix sat on the floor at her feet, stealing worried glances up at his sister. He kept opening his mouth like he was going to say something to her, but he never did. Soledad stood under the poster of the Wordsworth Classics cover of  _ Macbeth _ that hung opposite the windows. She was messing with her lighter, flicking it on and off. On and off. Only Ace seemed unperturbed, or at least only mildly perturbed. He was sitting calmly on the couch, munching on a bagel. 

The tension hung in the air like electricity before a thunderstorm. Even Professor Day seemed to be able to sense it, her normally unreadable expression betraying nervousness, her eyes flicking around the room. Diana leaned back against the wall next to Soledad. “Do the Blanchard’s know yet?” she asked. 

Soledad nodded, still flicking her lighter. “The police called them yesterday. They’re flying up tomorrow. To. Y’know. Retrieve his body.”

“Are your parents pulling you home?” Fray and Felix were going home for a week on Friday. 

“Nope. They haven’t even called.” Typical of the Esparza's. 

“I mean, I didn’t call them to tell them what happened, but. I assume the Blanchard’s told them.” Typical of Soledad. 

“You seem calm,” Diana noted. “For your best friend from childhood being dead. I mean. That wasn’t a criticism, but. I know that everyone deals with grief differently. I was just making an observation, y’know.” Since when had conversations with Soledad become so awkward?

Soledad finally gave up and lit a cigarette, despite the fact that the Writer’s House had a no smoking rule. A rule that Soledad herself had instated. “Trust me, Dee, I’m all fucked up inside,” she said. “But all the crying and yelling I’m gonna do I already did.”

“I didn’t see you cry,” Diana pointed out, somewhat facetiously. 

Soledad cracked a smile at that. “You think I’m gonna cry in front of you? Any of you? No. I’m the strong one, and I protect y’all.” 


End file.
